


homemade dynamite

by antpelts



Series: poetry/song inspired be more chill fics [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, College, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Reunions, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antpelts/pseuds/antpelts
Summary: The line of thought was cut off when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder before it moved, an arm linking with his own. An initial panic took over and he jumped, jerking his head to look at whoever had entered his bubble.Rich Goranski.A very drunk Rich Goranski.“Michael!”
Relationships: Rich Goranski/Michael Mell
Series: poetry/song inspired be more chill fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688794
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	homemade dynamite

**Author's Note:**

> so i love lorde. inspired by her song homemade dynamite ;p  
> slight warnings for car crashes and spiked drinks - neither actually happen. one throwaway sentence michael worries about worst case and another instance michael keeps rich away from a spiked drink.

Michael hated parties. Especially college parties, at least in high school he kind of knew who people were. Now everyone was a stranger - there was no one to help him find who he was looking for. Jeremy was lost somewhere out in the sea of bodies, just his luck. 

It wasn’t often he’d go to a party. When he did it was just to appease Jer, he got nervous going alone. So on the nights his new party friends were busy Michael would grab his headphones, tug his hood up over his head and head out. It was one of those nights. Usually he was good at keeping an eye out, since the Chloe fiasco he worried about his friend and tried to watch his back. There hadn’t been any issues the whole year but Michael was a chronic worrier, even if he’d often try to play it cool.

Begrudgingly he pulled himself away from his corner, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep people from trying to push drinks into his hands. It was edging on 11 and he was ready to go home, even a whole week of charging his social battery couldn’t have prepared him for this. 

When his search turned up empty he pulled out his phone and found a few texts from Jeremy. The first was a question, asking where he was. The second was him saying he was walking the two blocks back to the dorm. The last was an assurance he was okay and a selfie of him with a blissful smile on his face. 

That was his cue.

Michael tucked his phone away, returning his hands to his pockets as he shouldered through the crowd. He made his way down the stairs, careful to step over some giggling figure laying down right in the middle. He was ready to just shut down and pass out. All he could do was picture his bed, imagining how warm and soft it would be.

The line of thought was cut off when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder before it moved, an arm linking with his own. An initial panic took over and he jumped, jerking his head to look at whoever had entered his bubble.

Rich Goranski.

A very drunk Rich Goranski.

“Michael!”

Despite himself Michael couldn’t help but soften a bit. He liked Rich, he’d liked him  _ a lot _ senior year, actually. The timing just didn’t seem to be right as Rich struggled to escape his suffocating home life, Michael just tried to be his friend, pushing any selfish thoughts away. By college they just saw each other less. They lived on opposite ends of campus and all the new stresses of college kept Michael falling into isolating habits. The only person he’d really spoken to was Jeremy for the whole of first semester - and that was because they were roommates.

Maybe second semester would be different. What, with Rich looking up at him like that - like he was happy to see him. There was a fire burning in his eyes, a grin on his face. He really was a stick of dynamite, burning from both ends.

“Rich!” He tried to match the enthusiasm, only falling slightly too flat.

“Didn’t take you for a party type?” Rich swayed a bit, clinging onto Michael as he slowly pulled him towards the kitchen.

“‘m not. I came with Jer so he wouldn’t have to go alone. I guess he went home though, we lost track of each other.”

The explanation proved to be pointless because Rich was just grinning, grabbing a shot off the counter, too far gone to focus on anything.

“Mikey! C’mon! Party!”

Something cracked inside Michael when Rich looked at him like that so he took the shot and threw it back, groaning at the taste. He felt a hand pulling the glass from his hand to set it down before linking their fingers. Then a second hand came up to grab his other. Rich backed him closer to the living room again, their palms clung together with sweat.

“I missed you Mikey!” The lisp combined with slurred words was nearly too hard to interpret. 

“I missed you too, bud.” Michael looked down at their hands, giving a bemused hum as Rich swung their arms a bit, swaying. “I  _ miss  _ you.”

“We never got.. to be as good of friends as I wanted.” Rich scrunched up his face, taking a step closer, lessening the gap between them. “Which is weird! I think we.. have a lot in common.”

“Mm,” Michael let out a quiet breath, letting his gaze drift to Rich’s face.

“Dance with me, asshole.” Any seriousness slipped off his face, replaced with a grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Dynamite. He felt the sparks crackle around him.

Michael couldn’t get himself the say no, letting Rich sway their bodies around. His eyes unfocused as all the burning insecurities he forgot he’d held onto started to crawl out of the woodwork. It was like a switch was flipped, Rich moved with him with a practiced ease - he’d danced with people before. His hands slipped to brush over Michael’s arms, the touch felt electric.

“How have you been?” Michael swallowed thickly before forcing the words out.

“Great,” Rich whispered back. Though Michael could see a panic flash behind his eyes. 

That was all Michael needed to confirm the suspicion that this was something he did often. Dancing and drinking - maybe for the wrong reasons. The hazier parts of his mind couldn’t help but find the image of Rich grinding on people (on him) kind of hot.

Before Michael could say anything else Rich moved arms to wrap up against the back of Michael’s neck, pressing their chests together. He’d imagined  _ this  _ Rich plenty of times but it felt wrong in the circumstances. This wasn’t the Rich he’d seen bouncing around and happy at parties; this Rich was oddly determined, as if he was trying to prove some worth. He wasn’t sure he was enjoying himself. It was like he was pushing some twisted version of himself that he thought was better in the effort of gaining approval. Michael’s approval. It was kind of depressing. The fire fizzled out.

“Hey, Richie,” Michael spoke lowly, removing the arms from around his neck. The disappointment in Rich’s eyes wasn’t lost on him, he just needed to step back and breathe and figure out a way to get Rich home. “I’m.. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab a drink, alright?”

After Rich nodded he let his shoulders relax, slipping towards the kitchen to make his story more believable.

As he paced around the kitchen he weighed his options. Taking Rich home was out of the question unless he was coherent enough to direct Michael, even then he didn’t have a way of driving him there, as far as he knew he lived across campus. He  _ could  _ bring Rich back to his dorm but he felt strange doing so, it was Jeremy’s space too and Michael doubted that he was awake enough to text back whether or not he cared. As he dipped into overthinking he felt his chest tighten, before he could slip too far into his anxieties he grabbed a shot, throwing it back. Whatever it was.. it was pretty strong and he bit back a cough. Maybe it wasn’t as good of an idea as it seemed in his head.

Rich. Right, back on track.

Something told him that Rich needed someone to look out for him just as much as Jeremy did. Besides, the guy was small and it seemed like that last shot left him wobbly. In the few minutes Michael had been gone Rich looked nearly twice as fucked up. Maybe he’d had a drink when he wasn’t looking.

It seemed he’d also found someone else to cling onto in Michael’s absence. He tried not to let it bother him too much personally, none of this was personal. Rich was drunk, anything he said was just rambling and dancing was.. just dancing. Michael just wanted to pretend it hadn’t reawakened any feelings he’d had.

When Rich caught his eye he pulled his hands away from whatever guy he was hanging off of, pushing hands away from his hips. He stumbled a bit as he crossed the room to practically collapse into Michael’s arms as he tried to catch him.

“That.. guy’s in my chem class. He said he can drive me home and I said I had a friend here. He can.. drive you home too!” The last of the words grew more muffled as Rich practically face planted into Michael’s chest, shoulders shaking with laughter. The fire seemed to return, even if it was a little artificial. It seemed like Rich was every type of drunk someone could be.

After a beat Michael glanced back towards the guy who was pressing up against some girl now, nearly falling over himself. Last he knew it had been drizzling out, not the best conditions to get in a car with someone who was a little more than drunk. His anxieties swelled up again as he imagined Rich.. a screech of tires, wet pavement, broken glass, chrome illuminated by a lone streetlight.

“I.. no, you should.. Let’s just stay. Wanna stay with me?” Michael put his hands on Rich’s shoulders, moving him so they could meet eyes. A dopey grin fell onto Rich’s face and Michael took that as an okay. It was good enough for now.

“You gotta dance with me then, Mikey. Have fun.” With that Rich shifted to place hands on Michael’s waist, pulling him back and forth, their bodies bumping awkwardly. It was almost laughable and Michael bit back his fondness, following Rich’s lead. He felt Rich step on his foot and scrunched up his face.

“Rich.. where are your shoes?” Sure enough, when he looked down Rich was just wearing mismatched socks. Was it really one of  _ those  _ parties?

“Shh!” Rich huffed in annoyance, tightening his grip on Michael’s hips to pull him closer. “No questions! Have fun!”

That was enough to finally draw a laugh from Michael and he moved with Rich a bit more freely. The distance between them lessened until he felt fingers slide under his hoodie, and then his shirt. Rich’s hands dragged over his back, not going anywhere in particular. The closeness made his skin buzz and he felt a bit breathless - the two shots didn’t help. He didn’t have anywhere near a tolerance so he already felt a bit fuzzy.

They moved like that for a bit, laughing as they brought up scattered memories from high school. Their chests pressed together and after a moment Rich pulled his hands back to himself, instead moving to put his arms around Michael’s neck.

“As much fun as this is,” another laugh slipped from Michael’s lips, “it’s getting late, if you live far enough you need a ride.. do you wanna walk home with me? Jer and I have a dorm just down the street.”

“I think.. my shoes are somewhere?”

“Okay, I’ll try and look quick, don’t move?”

After he got a nod of acknowledgement Michael slipped away, scanning the ground for a pair of shoes. He supposed any pair would do because he had no clue what Rich’s shoes even looked like. After a few minutes he was tired of pushing through the crowd and he hadn’t noticed anything. Pulling his hood back up he tried to find his way back to Rich. He hadn’t moved but someone had moved closer to him. Michael wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or his overprotective nature, but he tensed up nonetheless. The guy was holding a cup, trying to push it into Rich’s hands. After a moment he accepted but before he could raise it to his lips Michael broke into a half jog, shoving past a few people to put himself at Rich’s side. Tossing an arm around his shoulder was enough to distract him from taking a drink.

“Okay, ready Richie?” 

Without waiting for an answer he started to herd him towards the door, pulling the solo cup from his fingers.

“Did you.. find my shoes?”

“Uh.. no, sorry. Let’s just go, okay? Not really trusting these people anymore.” Michael punctuated his sentence by pouring the cup into the sink as they headed towards the door. They hesitated on the porch, watching the slight drizzle from earlier that night carry on. “Shit.. okay. Hop on my back?”

Rich didn’t need to be told twice - they made their way down to the sidewalk and Rich scrambled onto Michael’s back as he crouched down. Arms were hooked around legs and they started down the sidewalk. The drizzle quickly wet Rich’s hair and he broke into laughter.

“I’m your umbrella!” 

Michael couldn’t help but laugh, giving Rich a heft to shift him up on his back more as he started to slip.

“Michael..?” They were only in silence for a few minutes and he could already see the dorm building only half a block away.

“Hold on Rich, lemme get us inside?”

There was no response and that was good enough. His back was starting to ache and rainwater was collecting on his glasses. He had no idea what Rich was going to say but all he could focus on was getting inside. Besides, from the sounds of it Rich was dipping into emotional, deep drunk territory and Michael wanted to be able to give him his whole attention if that were the case.

The few minutes passed in silence until Michael scanned his student id to let them into the building. Once they were in the lobby Michael let Rich slide off his back, ushering him towards the elevators. At least the desk clerks didn’t get paid enough to give a shit that two kids were stumbling into the dorms, drunk, at nearly one in the morning. After scanning his id again he pressed the elevator button. It seemed most people were still out or had long since gone to bed because they had only waited about twenty seconds before they shuffled into the elevator. Michael hit the fourth floor button and they were off.

“You know.. I think you’re awesome, right?” Rich’s slurred voice nearly made Michael jump as he was jolted from his thoughts.

“Like,” Rich continued, hanging onto Michael’s arm as they exited the elevator. “I was jealous of you. The squip saw that and.. it targeted you and Jer because it knew I was.. jealous.”

When Michael just nodded Rich kept babbling, “you know.. I’m not making excuses yeah? Yeah. We’ve talked about this.. I’ve just missed you and it felt horrible how it made that shit into a habit..”

“Rich, hey. It’s okay. You’re drunk, let’s just get you into bed.”

A silence fell between them as they headed through the hall, rounding a few corners until they stopped outside a door. Some little paper place cards on the door read  _ ‘Michael’  _ and  _ ‘Jeremiah’  _ with some scattered printed out pictures of video game characters.

“My clothes are wet,” Rich mumbled as Michael unlocked the door.

“I know Richie.”

“‘m cold.”

“I know Richie.” Michael softened, wrapping an arm around Rich’s shoulder as he led him into the room. It was dark except for the faint light falling through the window from a streetlight outside the building. There was a mound of blankets bunched up on Jeremy’s bed which Michael could only assume was Jeremy himself. “Here, you can change into this.”

Michael stepped away from Rich to grab a pair of sweatpants from his drawer and a loose shirt. With some incomprehensible mumble, Rich took the clothes and flopped onto the futon so he wouldn’t have to balance as he kicked his jeans off. They hit the ground with a quiet thud and Michael turned away in an attempt to give him privacy, tugging off his own damp clothes until he was in a shirt and boxers. 

In the interest of being a good friend Michael paused next to Jeremy’s bed, making sure he was alive and well, and definitely not suffering from alcohol poisoning.

With Jeremy’s well being confirmed he made his way to the futon to flop down next to Rich.

“You can take the bed man, get some rest.” Michael gave a soft pat to his shoulder which just turned into Rich slumping against him.

“‘m fine here.” It was mumbled into his shoulder, Michael felt his breath warm on his skin. “You’re great.. great pillow. Great boy! Mikey!”

“Hey, shh. Jer’s sleeping,” Michael managed to whisper between barely stifled laughs. “I missed you, though. Missed this.”

“Hey.. Michael?”

There was  _ something  _ buried in that tone and Michael felt his chest tighten a bit.

“Hmm?”

“Can we lay on the bed?”

Oh.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Michael grunted a bit as he moved Rich so he could stand up, offering his arm as he led Rich over to his bed. His steps were still uneven, legs weak, so he leaned down to hook hands under Rich’s thighs to lift him onto the partially lofted bed. Michael tried not to linger on thoughts of his thighs. 

After a beat of hesitation Rich reached out blindly for him so he hefted himself into the bed with him. They fit together nicely, Rich curled up against his chest.

“Mikey,” Rich whispered it harshly and before Michael could respond Rich blew a half-hearted raspberry against his shoulder. Unsure whether to laugh or cry Michael just buried his face in Rich’s hair, wheezing with weak laughter.

“I missed you a lot, Rich.” It was whispered, words hanging in the quiet stillness of the room. When there was no response Michael just assumed he’d fallen asleep, trying not to take it personally. He’d been pretty drunk, he couldn’t really be surprised.

“Hey.. Michael?” 

Every time Rich said his name he felt a flood of since forgotten emotions rush over him.

“Yeah?”

“Why..” There was a pause and a rustle of blankets as Rich pressed closer to him. “Wait.. first. Weird. Really weird. I had a dream.. about you last night.”

“Me?” Disbelief crept into Michael’s tone - he couldn’t help it. He was sure any minute Jeremy would pop up and tell him how he got pranked. Instead the silence just settled down heavy between them. “You.. had a dream about me?”

“I.. just do sometimes.” Rich attempted at a shrug, doing the best he could where he was crushed up against Michael.

Any words died on Michael’s tongue - what do you say to that?

“I.. have a question.” Rich shimmied until he could put enough space between them to look up at Michael. He’d removed his glasses, the bags under his eyes more apparent than ever. “For you.”

“Shoot,” it came out as a strained whisper and a lot weaker than he’d hoped.

“Why.. did we never date?”

Michael felt his mouth go dry, he was used to drunk Jeremy who was just overly silly so Rich becoming so serious was just plain jarring.

“I.. you were going through a lot? I just thought it would be a bit unfair of me to ask that of you.” He paused to worry his lip between his teeth, letting his eyes fall shut. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to meet Rich’s gaze and keep talking. Emotions were hard. “I wanted to be there for you as your friend first. As soon as everything started to calm down we.. just talked less. You seemed happy enough and I didn’t want.. yeah. I didn’t want to.. expect anything special from you. I wanted you to be able to focus on your life.”

“But.. what about what I want?” If Michael had opened his eyes he would have seen Rich furrow his brow in some combination of frustration and confusion.

“Huh?”

“You’re not my.. saviour or anything. What about what I want? It was busy and crazy but.. I wanted to date you. I really wanted it. I thought you.. didn’t..” There was a sharp intake of breath and Michael felt the onset of panic, eyes shooting open as he pulled Rich in tight to his chest.

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m sorry. Richie, I’m sorry. I had.. no clue. I should’ve said something.. I liked you so much. So fucking much,” Michael whispered it against his hair, rubbing small circles on his back. “I.. still do. Even if it’s been a while. You’re.. Rich Goranski and I’m so fucking into you, dude.”

“Promise?” The word was muffled against Michael’s shirt.

“Give me another shot?” Michael felt Rich relax into his chest. “And I’ll prove it to you, every day. You deserve the world, Rich. I’m.. sorry I couldn’t give it to you sooner.”

“Then you can just give it to me now.” Rich’s voice trailed off as sleep tugged him further down. 

“Boyfriends then?”

“I like the sound of that.”

Soon Rich’s breathing evened out as he drifted into sleep and Michael closed his eyes, following suit.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments keep me going! <3 im also writing some multi ch expensive headphones so check it out! ;pp


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